Page 73 of Treat

Dazed, still vibrating with pleasure, she was trying to breathe without wheezing when hard hands flipped her onto her stomach.

“Oof.” Staggered, she pushed herself up on her elbows and looked over her shoulder. Without her glasses he was a Jude-shaped blur, but the sound of tearing foil clued her in. “Oh, thank God.”

“I was going to ask if this was okay, but I guess that’s a yes.”

She managed to get her knees under her, pushing her butt up into the air, and spread her legs. “Hurry.”

“Okay,” he said agreeably, then he was inside her, thick and hot and hard, and the sweet stretch almost made her come again on the spot.

“Christ, you feel good,” he said and began to move.

She wanted to say he felt good, too. Amazing. Heavenly, even. But he was driving hard and fast, racing for completion, and she didn’t have the breath. So she concentrated on moving her hips back to meet him stroke for stroke, on the renewed tension creeping into her belly. She thought she might come again, but judging by the jerkiness of his movements he wasn’tgoing to last very much longer, so she dipped a hand between her thighs to help things long, and when he stiffened behind her with a hoarse shout, she was right there with him.

She collapsed with a grunt, then the bed bounced when he fell beside her to sprawl on his back. She eyed him blearily, grateful he was close enough to make out some details—like the way his face shone like it had been painted with a layer of varnish. Pussy varnish.

The thought made her giggle, and he turned his head to look at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, still giggling. The shine went all the way to his hairline.

“I could’ve died, and she laughs,” he muttered, but his eyes were warm.

“I asked if you could breathe,” she reminded him and worked up the energy to prop herself up on one elbow. “Did you say “if I die, I die’?”

He yawned. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“Right.” Giving in to the urge to cuddle, she scooted over to lay on top of him. Wiggling to get comfortable, she folded her hands on his sternum and propped her chin on them. “Nice mustache work, by the way.”

His smile was smugly satisfied. “Yeah?”

“Hmm. I may need something to soothe the whisker burn, but it was worth it.”

“Good to know.” He lifted his arms to loop them around her. “What are you going to do today?”

“No plans.” She rubbed her nose against his sternum, breathing him in. Sex and sweat and Jude. “Other than a shower and maybe a nap.”

“God, that sounds good.” His hand began a lazy stroke up and down her back. “What time is it?”

She yawned, then rested her cheek on his chest. His heart beat slow and steady under her ear. “Dunno.”

He picked up his head to frown at the headboard. “Where’s my phone?”

“I knocked it off,” she told him, not moving. “I think it’s on the floor.”

“Oh. That reminds me, I put your glasses on the nightstand.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

They lay there in silence for a moment, his hand gliding up and down her back, and she was nearly asleep when he said, “I wish I didn’t have to get up.”

“Why do you have to get up?” she asked sleepily, then she remembered.There goes the afterglow.“What time are you meeting Grant?”

“Eleven-thirty.” His hand paused its stroking. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she said and tried to relax again.

“You just went stiff as a board,” he pointed out.

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